Stripes
by ohmygodwhy
Summary: It was the stripes. The three lines of contrasting white stretching horizontally around only half his dark head. His imperfection. / A quick lil SoKi oneshot


It was the stripes.

The three lines of contrasting white stretching horizontally around only half his dark head.

His imperfection.

One glance at them could send him spiraling into the self-built pit of despair that was his disorder. A simple off-handed remark could be taken as an offense, to which he would only dramatically agree with. He felt he deserved the ridicule he expected would come.

Why?

Because he was imperfect.

It was the characteristic he defined himself with.

If he was not perfect, he was disgraceful, disgusting.

If he was not perfect, there was no way he could ever hope to take over his father's position.

If he was not perfect, he would be looked down upon, rejected by those he cared for most.

This is what he solemnly believed.

And this is the truth that he lived by.

But the fact remained: Death the Kid was not perfect. Nor could he ever hope to be.

And he despised it.

He despised himself.

And those damn asymmetrical stripes.

At least until a certain shark toothed scythe became a figure in his life.

"I'm garbage. Asymmetrical garbage. Such a disgusting creature shouldn't be allowed to live on this planet."

By now the self-degrading mumblings had become commonplace, and the scythe was used to them. But how their simple stroll to the basketball court had wound up like this, with the shinigami crouched in a familiar ball on the ground, he honestly didn't know.

Sighing softly, he knelt down beside his fallen friend, placing a hand on his back. The pistols were gone, so it was up to him to pull the boy from his temporary depression.

"Come on, Kid. You and I both know you have every right to live on this planet."

"Do we now?" The reaper returned, not bothering to even lift his head. "And how is that? I don't recall ever coming to such a conclusion. A pathetic being that contributes nothing to the world doesn't deserve to live in it."

Soul just rolled his crimson eyes. "You 'contribute' just as much as the next guy. Scratch that, you've probably saved the next guy's ass like," he paused, "eight times."

At the sound of his favored number, the reaper's head cocked upwards ever so slightly. Seeing this as a good sign, the weapon continued.

"You've collected tons of pre-kishin souls; who knows what they could'a done if you hadn't."

Kid didn't look convinced, expression dropping to one of skepticism. "That's just what academy students do." He drawled. "I did nothing special. I haven't even reached the required ninety-nine."

"Yeah, but don't you have to collect twice as many?"

The reaper merely shrugged.

Soul thought for a moment, before deciding on a final tactic. "And you can't forget about Liz and Patty. Without you, they'd still be living on the streets, right? They could be dead right now if you hadn't helped them."

There was a rather long pause, in which the shinigami shifted uncomfortably under the scythe's awaiting gaze.

"I suppose you're right." He murmured after a moment.

"See?" the weapon said, a triumphant smirk forming on his mouth. "You've done a lot more than you think you have. You don't have to measure your worth with some silly white lines."

"But… they're asymmetrical. Awful, disgusting, asymmetrica-"

"Come on, don't start with that again." Soul cut him off hurriedly. "Sure, they're asymmetrical now, but they'll eventually connect, won't they? Besides, they're kinda cute."

The weapon froze.

He felt the reaper tense beneath him.

A painfully long moment dragged out, before the striped head was lifted, just high enough for a pair of golden eyes to be seen peaking up.

"What did you say?"

Damn, so he had heard that. The weapon inwardly cursed himself for having been so careless in his speech. He wasn't supposed to say that out loud!

Shrugging his worries off, he decided to play off of the surprised anticipation in the reaper's eyes.

Lips curling into one of his signature smirks, Soul stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he did so.

"You heard me. The stripes are kinda cute. Don't be so worried about 'em."

Another pause, before the reaper stood, brushing himself off and glancing away in the process, mostly to cover up the slight tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. He gave an awkward cough before he slipped his hands into his own pockets with a muttering of "Thanks."

Soul nodded, smirk never leaving his face. "What ' d you say we get to the court now. Everyone's probably wondering where we are."

Kid simply nodded before continuing, rather briskly, in the direction the pair had been headed before this whole ordeal began.

The weapon continued after him.

"Well… seems like it worked."


End file.
